


And I’d Never Leave (‘Cause I’d Miss Ya)

by CountlessUntruths (KaliCephirot)



Category: Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4644495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliCephirot/pseuds/CountlessUntruths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the time Clint asks Kate to move in with him, it’s pretty much just a formality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I’d Never Leave (‘Cause I’d Miss Ya)

**Author's Note:**

> So there was [this](http://countlessuntruths.tumblr.com/post/50750974596/from-this-gifset-all-i-can-see-is-hawkeyes-make#notes-container) gifset. And then [when-it-rains-it-snows](http://when-it-rains-it-snows.tumblr.com/) made [art](http://when-it-rains-it-snows.tumblr.com/post/58994896566/okay-so-there-was-this-gifset-and-jfc-the). And, listening to [this](https://youtu.be/avuED1fkePY) song, about two and mumblemumble years later, I wrote fic.

By the time Clint asks Kate to move in with him, it’s pretty much just a formality: Kate moved into one of the empty apartments in his building since she came back from L.A., but she’s pretty much been living at his place anyway. Her gear has been there before they even started dating, he already had given her three out of his six drawers as well as part of the closet and five out of seven nights would find her sleeping either in his bed if she came home before him or on the couch if she came after him, with the sixth and seventh one are, usually, either because of team meatings or the world ending, basically.

The only difference to that, once they actually started dating, was that the couch was crossed out of the equation.

But still. He asks because it’s the right thing to do, not just this almost-living-together-but-not-really that feels a little like holding back. Because it’s important, she’s important, and Clint is doing his very best not to push them into a second divorce in their partnership/first break up since actual relationship.

There’s not much to bring from the apartment that she had barely even furnished. Clothes, a few books, the few things she had her team help her steal (recover, as Kate said) from her old man’s place: Jewelry that had belonged to Kate’s mom, photo albums, a few mementos from her sister, her cello. Kate moving in with him takes them a whole of three hours, five boxes, and earns Kate fifty bucks from selling off her mattress and couch, and giving away her mismatched china.

So while they rearrange their place so it’s actually theirs and not just Clint’s, while Kate asks if he’s okay in painting the place (“depends on the colors, girly”) and maybe getting a new bed (he is) and if he wants the same toppings as always on his pizza (“you know me”), he thumbs through Kate’s photo albums, grinning at eleven-years-old Kate with braces and standing besides a horse, at seven-years-old Kate in a ballerina-tutu, laughs out loud at fourteen years old Kate, all arms and legs inside a pretty high school uniform.

“You wore a uniform?” he asks, grinning.

Kate rolls her eye and she flops on the couch. Her foot nudges his side. “Well, duh. Private school rich brat, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, make fun of the carnie, girly.”

“Always,” He hears Kate grin, then the creaking of the old couch (which maybe the should change, too) shift as she moves, lying on the couch until the sharp turn of her chin is against his shoulder, arms wrapped around his shoulders. She pokes him again, a little. “Why’re you so interested? Don’t tell me you have a uniform fetish.”

It’s his time to snort. “As if our life didn’t kill that particular kink dead and buried with all the leather and kevlar.”

He feels Kate laughing against his neck. “Okay, you’ve got a point there, boss. So then… naughty student, strict teacher kinda thing?”

Clint turns to look at her, grins and puts his best (which is his worst, of course) sexy voice. “Have you been a naughty girl, Katie-Kate?”

This time she laughs out loud, presses her fingers against his side to make him squirm. “And that kills dirty-talking as one of our kinks.”

“You’re no fun at all, Hawkeye.”

“Well, I hear that all work and no play make Hawkeyes no fun,” Kate agrees and then something molassy shows in her smile, full of promises and warmth that Clint is, still, in no way ready to put into words, even with the whole moving in. “But, Hawkeye, since you’ve been mostly good with the things-changing-and-not-panicking and all, I will tell you that I might still have the uniform, in one of the bags,” Kate wrinkles her nose. “I have no idea why I didn’t just give it up ages ago, 'tho.”

Clint puts the photo album down so he can turn and puts his hands on Kate waist where her tanktop has ridden up a bit, so he can finger slowly where an old scar curves near her hipbone.

“Because you have amazing future-predicting abilities and you knew that I’d be interested.”

“True, that.”

“And that reminds me…”

Clint waits a minute until Kate is cocking her head to the side, curious. Then he moves his hands up to the ticklish parts of her waist. Kate shrieks as he tumbles her down unto the couch, her laughter loud and clear.

“You owe me like 'a zillion’ pokes, girly!”

Kate shrieks again, trying to push his hands away, twisting underneath him, Clint laughing with her, something bright inside him before he leans forward to kiss her, and kiss her again, and once more because Kate is smiling against his lips, legs moving around his waist and when she pushes a bit, Clint goes easily with her on his lap, and then falls on his back with Kate on top, and Kate laughs again and kisses him, her smiling face brighter than the freakin’ sun, and Clint isn’t a religious man but for a moment he prays that the crash and burn of this relationship is still a long time to come.


End file.
